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Call it Embarrassed Mother Syndrome. As my exuberant, confident, then 3-year-old daughter, Miriam, marched through social events to the beat of her own drum, deep inside, I cringed.

Sometimes Miriam’s personality just seemed too big for the setting. At parties, I’d attempt to correct her behavior; she’d put up resistance. I’d end up apologizing to the host and other guests, and she’d end up angry. Not much fun for either of us. Read more →

Crying children. Crumbs and a sticky mess everywhere you step. Running on maybe four hours of sleep. Feels like you’ve done nothing but yell “no!” and “stop!” all day long, and your patience exited the door approximately 30 minutes after you woke up an hour too early. Your hair hasn’t seen shampoo (or a brush, for that matter) in days. And forget about even bothering to get dressed in “normal” clothes. Read more →